


Aphrodisia

by silameninggal



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Flower Crowns, Flowers, Force Bond, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Cult?? Kinda??, Force Ritual (Star Wars), Force Sex (Star Wars), Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Ritual Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28007517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silameninggal/pseuds/silameninggal
Summary: There is a ritual.The planet seeks the Chosen-One, the complementary halve to High Priest Obi-Wan, in order to bring forth prosperity to it's people.At the height of the full moon, a single other is found.Or: flower crowns and fucking
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 36
Kudos: 117
Collections: Obikin Secret Santa 2020





	Aphrodisia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cataclysm_dialogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cataclysm_dialogue/gifts).



> Written for the Obikin Discord Server Secret Santa! The prompt I received was flower crowns, explicit. This is for Aurora!!! Merry Christmas in advance lmao  
> So, Gfriend released [Apple](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQSse3b2ge4) and well, my uhh slight obsession with it manifested as this fic. Enjoy!

_Nearer, nearer, nearer_

_Until my lips desire your red allure_

_Come and Dance with me_

_Gfriend, Apple_

It is the full moon.

Obi-Wan feels the call in his blood, the twisting of the muscles in his chest, limbs. _Soon,_ he whispers, _soon._ The sigils branded on his skin catch fire, aflame, the burn in his loins sparking brighter.

The Force pulls taut, rippling with tension.

“The ritual must be finished,“ the elders say, their gazes impenetrable. “The Force calls. The sage has been chosen.”

Behind him, the sages bow, hitching up their robes. Obi-Wan follows, resolutely, willing his unwieldy limbs to cooperate.

“Come forth, High Priest Kenobi.”

A startled murmur passes through the crowd of sages as he steps forth. He kneels on the dais, thrumming with tension. The elders nod at the priests that dust his body with gold, ground into a fine powder, that adorn him with blossoms of the A’mari-leis flower. Wreaths of lilies and irises, roses and carnations are fastened onto his robes, choice buds artfully placed in his hair. He is young, the youngest of them all to be granted such an honour, to have been blessed with the gifts of the Force.

It is his duty to bring the blessing of the Force, to grant the village its good fortune. The hope of a planet rests on him, and a single chosen Other.

“One other may be chosen, to partake in this ritual;” The elders command the bustling masses, jostling in the plains. “Call for the search. The blessed other will be found.”

* * *

It is almost nightfall when the search-party arrives at the temple, bringing with them a young man, a wreath clasped in his hands. The mass of people congregated at the temple doors fall silent with both reverence and dismissal. Obi-Wan hears the whispers passed down the halls, that speak of his young to-be partner.

_Son of Shmi, the widower,_ they hiss. _Is he truly the blessed lad?_

_The Force decides,_ Obi-Wan thinks, idly fiddling with the wreath he holds in his own hands, woven with his own fingers. The mass of red and green is speckled through with pale yellow of lime-flowers, twined with the white of lilies and the coral of roses. He picks a single crystal from the selection laid on the offering-table and braids it into the wreath, where it would rest against the Force-Chosen’s forehead. The heady scent of of A’mari-leis flowers waft in the air, spicy and intoxicatingly sweet.

The fire in his loins burns brighter. _Soon,_ he croons, as if soothing a great beast. _It is almost nightfall._ He brings the crystal to his lips, imbuing it with the essence of the Force, sacred, pure. _The Chosen One is soon to arrive._

He places the finished wreath on the altar, ready for it’s owner. The Force is vibrating in anticipation, prickles of heat working their way up Obi-Wan’s spine. The petals of A’mari-leis flowers rustle as he runs his hand through them, settling at his spot by the altar.

When he lifts his hands to the evening light, pollen streaks his fingers in silver.

Footsteps pass outside the waiting-chamber, echoing against the cool marble floor. A moment later, the doors burst open, petals floating in the air in a flurry. A young man, fair-faced and strong jawed, is escorted into the chamber, stirring the petals that rest on the ground with his feet.

_Oh,_ Obi-Wan thinks, heat coiled low in his gut. _He’s beautiful indeed._ Soft curls frame blue eyes, plush lips a stark contrast to razor-sharp cheekbones. The Chosen-One is clothed in white, ribbons and glass-beads plaited into dirty-blonde locks.

Obi-Wan rises, bows. The Chosen-One bows in deference, reaches out with the wreath balanced on his open palms.

“I offer myself as a vessel of the Force,” he says, softly. “To channel it’s blessings.”

Obi-Wan takes the wreath, blue-yellow flowers and crystal shards woven together, red carnations and white baby’s breath, dried blooms and fresh. He presses a kiss to each open palm, clasps his fingers in The Chosen-One’s, tenderly kisses each knuckle.

“Be joyful, young one,” Obi-Wan says, freeing his fingers from the Chosen-One’s, gently picking up the wreath. “For you are bestowed with the Force’s greatest gifts.” The wreath is passed to one of the awaiting sages, then is placed on the altar. “Speak, and let the masses know your name, and let it be celebrated, Chosen-One.”

The Chosen-One flushes, skin tinted a pale pink. “Anakin Skywalker,” he whispers, “Son of Shmi Skywalker-Lars.”

Obi-Wan nods, brushes a finger against plush lips, leaving a smear of silver behind. “Do you yield to the will of the Force, young Skywalker?”

“I do.”

At once, the accompanying sages begin to chant, laying their hands on the altar. Obi-Wan can feel the Force as it rushes towards them, a swirling nexus of light. For a moment, they are suspended in it’s push, weightless in the abyss, a perfect pair.

Obi-Wan pulls Anakin close, presses their foreheads together. The thrum of Anakin’s pulse beats against the steady rise-fall of his own chest.

“Then I, High Priest Obi-Wan Kenobi, take your hand in union, as is granted by the Will of the Force.”

He presses their lips together, embers now a blaze. Anakin’s lips are soft against his own, A’mari-leis pollen sweet on his tongue. The world is narrowed down to the touch of Anakin’s lips against his and the gentle drag of his fingers against Anakin’s jaw.

Anakin keens, softly. Obi-Wan can feel his _want_ in the Force, hazy and languid, the corners of his irises tinged silver, a burst of power teetering on the edge. He shifts, deepens the kiss, wrapping a hand around the nape of Anakin’s neck. Between them, he feels the Force shifting, wrapping their signatures together, a bond shot through with silver and gold.

They part with a gasp, a faint blush creeping past Anakin’s cheekbones. Obi-Wan smoothes the curls that fall over his eyes away, tenderly stroking his cheek. “Are you ready, young one?” Obi-Wan murmurs, breath ghosting over the jut of Anakin’s jaw. “We have tonight, only.”

“Yes,” Anakin says, already breathless with it, blood pulsing in his veins. “Yes, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan picks an A’mari-leis blossom from the altar, gaze intently focused on Anakin. He presses it against Anakin’s lips, watching Anakin open his mouth so Obi-Wan can push it in with the pads of his fingers.

Anakin’s eyes grow dark as Obi-Wan places a single bloom on his tongue, licking pollen off his fingers, the nectar bittersweet. Immediately, the aphrodisiac effects of the flower take place, arousal simmering underneath his skin, crawling up his spine. He places a hand on the altar, guides Anakin to do the same, and _wills._ At once, the Force bursts with colour, rays of light dancing on the walls, crystals glowing bright before dimming. Petals waft in the air, blown into motion by the pulse of the Force.

Obi-Wan reaches for his wreath, places it on Anakin’s head, a crown for the Chosen-One. The crystal lays against Anakin’s forehead, as blue as his eyes. He presses Anakin’s wreath into his hands, ducking his head to let Anakin place the crown of blossoms where it rests against his temples.

A murmur of appraisal passes through the gathered elders and priests. Anakin flushes scarlet, slightly abashed.

“There we go, young one” Obi-Wan says, wrapping Anakin in his arms. “Tonight, we shall perform the last of the rites.” He rises, steadying Anakin, who sways on his feet, no doubt feeling more than just light-headed after such a powerful display of the Force.

The sages lead him away to be prepared for the ritual, and once again, Obi-Wan is left alone in the chamber.

The crown of blossoms around his head feel like a promise, a vow.

* * *

Moonlight streams through the branches of trees, casting gnarled shadows on the ground. The floor is dotted with bioluminescent orbs, glowing softly in the dark of night.

In the middle of the ritual-chamber, Anakin kneels, clad in a wrap-around skirt, the fine material shimmering in the half-light. Pollen is streaked on his skin, stark on his cheekbones and the hollow of his neck, glittering silver against his tanned skin. Petals are strewn carelessly on the ground, colour dotting the pure white of his skirt, the gold of his hair. Ribbons weave through Anakin’s hair, flowing in the wind, speckled with silver and gold. Atop, he wears the circlet of flowers, the crystal emitting a faint glow that casts his features in faint blueish light.

The chamber is large, open-aired, and Obi-Wan can feel the chill of night as he treads over the stone floor. The fine gold chains that adorn his wrists jingle delicately, weighted down with charms.

Anakin looks up as Obi-Wan approaches, eyes lined with smudges of iridescent pigment. He is flushed with arousal, the glitter unable to hide the tint of red on his cheeks.

“Obi-Wan,” he says, voice rough, “ _please.”_

Obi-Wan drops to his knees by Anakin, ignoring the twinge of pain. Their desire swirled in the Force, heady and potent. He reached over and pulled Anakin into his lap, noting how his cock tented the delicate fabric of his skirt.

“Shhh,” Obi-Wan said, gently stroking the planes of Anakin’s chest. “It’s alright.” His own cock was swollen and heavy between his thighs, nearly aching with how aroused he was. Obi-Wan began to undo the ties, pressing kisses to Anakin’s collarbones, biting and sucking the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Anakin hissed when Obi-Wan finally managed to rip off his skirt, cock exposed to the cool night air. Obi-Wan swiped his thumb over the head, circling it, and Anakin _keened_ , back arching.

“Ah!” Anakin moaned, arms wrapped around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. He rutted against Obi-Wan’s hand, desperately. “I’ve been waiting so long, Obi-Wan, “ he said, panting, as Obi-Wan shifted to push down his own garments.

Obi-Wan palmed his own cock, groaning, and brought the both of their lips together in a searing kiss. He bent down, swirling his tongue around a nipple, Anakin gasping and writing above him.

He pulled back, and gently pressed Anakin to lie against the stone floor, his legs wrapped around his waist. “I’m going to open you up now,” Obi-Wan said, caressing the soft insides of Anakin’s thighs.

Anakin shook his head, and brought Obi-Wan’s hand down past the cleft of his ass, pressing against the cool head of the crystal plug nestled in his core. “I’m all ready for you,” he whined, jerking his hips. “Fuck me, Obi-Wan.’

Obi-Wan groaned, gripping the base of the plug and twisting it out of Anakin’s hole. Anakin gasped, the rise and fall of his chest stark in the glow. “That’s it,” Obi-Wan said, slowly pulling the plug out, then setting it to the side. “You’re doing so well.”

The plug was large, as wide as three of his fingers. Obi-Wan felt a surge of heat at the sight of Anakin laid out before him, crown askew, glowing incandescent in the Force. He pressed a finger, then two, into the soft, slick heat of Anakin’s insides, feeling the clench of it around his fingers.

Anakin made a soft, keening noise from the back of his throat, eyes unfocused in pleasure. “Yes,” he warbled, voice breaking, as Obi-Wan rubbed against his prostate, pressing against the tender node. “Right—there!”

Obi-Wan thrust his fingers in, once, twice, spreading them before adding a third. Anakin groaned, a punched-out sound, and began to tilt his hips to match Obi-Wan’s pace. “There we go,” Obi-Wan crooned, drawing out his fingers, Anakin whining in protest. He squirmed as Obi-Wan gripped his hips, holding him still.

“Hold still, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, shifting forwards, spreading Anakin’s legs wider. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He pressed the tip of his cock against Anakin’s hole, lust coursing through his veins.

“I’m ready, so ready,” Anakin said, gasping. “ _Obi-Wan.”_

Obi-Wan pushed in, finally, stretching out the rim of Anakin’s slick hole, pushing into that tight, wet heat.

“Gods,” he said, groaning at the feel of Anakin’s hole fluttering around his cock. “ _Anakin._ ”

Anakin moaned, shuddering. He arched, as Obi-Wan slowly thrust all the way in, hips settling against Anakin’s. He shifted his hips, breathing hard, pulling Obi-Wan down for a kiss.

“You feel so good—” Anakin said, voice rough. He mouthed at Obi-Wan collarbones, licked a stripe up his neck. The tips of fingers brushed over the crown, feather light. “inside me. So good.”

Obi-Wan jerked, the shift in position jarring the both of them. “Ah,” he said, voice thick, and thrust in again, the sensation lighting sparks behind his eyelids. They both groaned as Obi-Wan began to thrust, a brutal rhythm, driving into Anakin, needing, wanting to make him cry out in pleasure.

Anakin reached down, fisting his own cock in time to Obi-Wan’s thrusts. He wailed, as a particularly hard thrust grazed his prostate, ecstasy like liquid fire. Obi-Wan made a choked-off noise, low in his throat, and thrust in again, and again, any sense of control slowly spiralling away as the mounting pleasure grew, euphoric, like a supernova.

“ _Obi-Wan,_ ” Anakin sobbed, as Obi-Wan rocked inside him, the sensations far too much, his steadily building orgasm threatening to spill. He pushed his feet onto the ground, scrabbling for purchase, snapping his hips against Obi-Wan’s once, twice, crying out as he felt the throes of his orgasm rush through him, a powerful wave.

Obi-Wan gritted out a low noise against Anakin’s shoulder, spilling into him, the crest of Anakin’s pleasure feeding into his own. The Force heaved in its rapturous glory, rising and falling, binding both their souls together. It sang with the chorus of a thousand voices, filled to bursting with triumph.

Obi-Wan collapsed against Anakin, boneless, trembling. Anakin rolled them both onto their sides, resting his head against Obi-Wan’s chest.

Obi-Wan felt the crown pressing against his temples, but found that he could not bring himself to care, not when Anakin was nestled in his arms, soft and pliant.

Anakin nudged against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Petals were caught in his hair, crown knocked to the side, yet he still looked ethereal in the soft light. “Have we brought forth the blessings yet?” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. He reached over and tugged Obi-Wan’s crown into place, kissing his cheeks.

Obi-Wan chuckled, brushing petals out of Anakin’s wild hair. “Perhaps,” he said, rising onto his elbows. “Unless you would like to ensure that we truly have?”

Anakin pushed him over, crown drooping over his forehead. “Oh? “ he said, slotting himself between Obi-Wan’s spread legs. “Why not?”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://perangbintang.tumblr.com/) ! prompts and asks are welcome :)
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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